


Homecoming

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-12
Updated: 2006-05-12
Packaged: 2018-05-31 10:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6466855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Letters to a Dead Man;" Angel and Wesley's sister find an amulet that changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

"It's an amulet," Angel said dumbly. "I don't now, Em, it was just... it was folded up in the letter." He shrugged, pressing the year-old missive to his chest protectively. "What's a system restore point?"

Emma Wyndham-Pryce raised an eyebrow at her 'brother-in-law.' "It's... well, Angel, it's a computer thing," she said carefully. "May I see the talisman?"

Angel scowled. "I'm not a Luddite," he insisted. "I'm just really old. Does it mean what I think it means? Can we use this thing to get Wes back?"

"I don't know," Emma admitted, mild irritation evident in her tone. "I can't tell if you won't let me look at the bloody thing."

Handing over what looked like a highly tarnished silver pendant with a richly-hued yellow-green polished stone, Angel bit his lower lip. "Emma, don't get my hopes up. If there's hope dashing, it should happen now, before they're up."

"Dad?" Connor called out. "You up here?" He stuck his head into Angel's suite and smiled. "Hey, Auntie Em."

Emma smiled back, holding the pendant up to the light. "Connor. Looks like my erstwhile brother left your father a fabulously tacky jewelry collection."

"Hmm," Connor replied. "Maybe you should save everything fabulous and tacky for Lorne. Dad, are you okay?" He knew it was the one-year anniversary of Wesley's death, and Angel had been more or less freaking out over it all week.

"Peachy. What's a system restore point?" Angel asked, his lips curled into a frown.

"It's a save point that your computer can revert to if something gets fried. You just, restore it, and it's like whatever went wrong never happened."

"Can I look at the letter?" Emma asked innocently, and Angel all but snarled. "Easy, tiger. If I can't touch it, could you read it to me? What does it say about the bloody charm?"

"'I have secured a talisman to which I have linked my current vital signs,'" Angel read aloud. "Blah blah blah, 'but, as always, if you have a need for me, I will come when you call.' Does that help?"

"Whoa, back up the blah-blah," Lorne piped up as he came into the suite with, of all things, a tea service. "Those blanks could be dangerous left unfilled."

"'A mystical 'system restore point' if you will,'" Angel continued, rolling his eyes, "'though that phrase surely means nothing to you. Ask Illyria, perhaps, assuming she lives, or Connor. I beg you not to pull me back to my wasted life to be a hero; I assure you I am happy where I am.' But the rest of the letter, guys... he loved me. He wants me to bring him back! It says so up here," he said, waving the letter under Emma's nose.

Emma pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and grabbed Angel's hand to hold the letter still. "Love knows no bounds... one kiss or tender embrace... no one mentioned Wesley was a poet. This is lovely."

Angel grinned. "It is, isn't it."

Lorne smiled, pouring tea for Connor, Emma, Angel and himself. "No one's going to try to talk you out of it, sugarplum. Let loose with the mojo, honeycakes, and let's have a look at our boy Wes." Sugarplum was clearly Angel, but honeycakes could have been Angel or Emma; Emma, however, was just as anxious to meet the brother she'd hardly known in life as Angel was to hold the lover he'd never touched in life, and took that as her cue to begin to recite the incantation she found on the back of the pendant. It was just as well; Angel's Latvian pronunciation was almost as atrocious as his Akkadian grammar.

~*~

It was the first time Angel had seen midnight since he'd awoken with a heartbeat. Wesley was nowhere to be found. "It said he'd turn up where his spirit rests," Lorne said finally. "Not necessarily his body." Angel had them all out there with shovels, including Connor's girlfriend Rosa, who had a spade in one hand and a stake in the other. She wasn't too thrilled about the idea of her boyfriend's dad's friend coming back from the dead, and couldn't be convinced he wasn't going to be a vampire.

Angel looked at Lorne for a while before nodding. "You guys stay here."

Wesley was sitting at the desk in the office they'd operated Angel Investigations out of, staring intently at his hands. "How long has it been?" He asked softly, turning them over to look at the backs.

"A year," Angel replied, moving towards him slowly, cautiously. "To the day."

Wesley nodded. "I got your letters. Every single one. The letters, the notes jotted in the margins on the newspaper... I'm fairly sure it's highly irregular to pray to non-deities."

Angel shrugged, smiling. "Well, I'm a pretty irregular guy. I missed you."

"I know," Wes smiled back, pushing away from the desk and standing. "I didn't miss you, Angel; I couldn't. You've filled my senses all along. There wasn't a moment that I couldn't hear you, see you..." He trailed off. Angel didn't need a lecture on the five senses. A practical demonstration, perhaps, but not a lecture.

"You missed a few," Angel pointed out, and Wes laughed.

"You look amazing," he told Angel, and he realized that he was older than Angel now. Or... no, he supposed Angel had a good 47 days on him, now, didn't he? He wanted to touch him, to see if Angel's skin was as soft and warm and intoxicating as it looked.

"You too," Angel breathed, and god, wasn't the sound of Angel breathing because he needed to, rather than because he forgot he didn't need to, a trip? Neither man could remember consciously moving, but they seemed to be gravitating towards one another, and Wesley noted with mild amusement that their hearts beat in almost perfect synchronization.

Suddenly, if he'd ever had such a thing as a personal bubble, Angel was inside his and he inside Angel's, their lips inches apart, and fuck but he'd been waiting for this moment for too long. Angel's breath across his lips was enough to make his stomach flip-flop and his heart race, and certain other parts of his body that had been in a state of disuse to sit up and take notice. And then there was nothing between them save a scant few millimetres, and -

"Wes!" Emma exclaimed, bursting into the office. She'd been unable to stay when Angel had told them to, leaving Lorne to play third wheel for the young lovers in the garden. She flung herself into her surprised brother's arms.

"Emma," Wes said, patting the woman's back awkwardly. It was going to take quite some time to reconcile the young woman from Angel's letters with the girl who'd rivaled him - successfully - for their father's approval for most of his life, to the point that he'd never even mentioned her to his friends. "It's good to see you."

~*~

"Wes, you look great," Lorne enthused as Angel and Emma returned to the garden with their prize. "How're you feeling?"

"I feel wonderful," Wesley admitted, with a warm smile. "It's amazing what a year's vacation from the mortal realm will do for you."

A petite brunette was peering suspiciously at him from the vicinity of Connor's elbow. "This is Rosa," Connor said, beaming proudly at his father's friend. "Rosa Marina, this is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, my dad's friend."

"He don't look like a blood sucker," Rosa smiled hesitantly. 

"I assure you, Ms. Marina, I'm not a vampire. Neither am I a zombie, nor any other foul fiend of the night. It's a pleasure to meet you." Wes offered her his hand, and when she finally decided to drop her stake and accept it, he leaned closer to her to add with a smirk, "Angel _dice que usted tiene una boca asquerosa. Una palabra al sabio - cada uno aquí habla español._ "

Rosa's dark brown eyes went wide as saucers, and she smacked Connor's arm, hard. "You weren't even gonna tell me!"

Lorne raised his hand. "If you got any more graphic over there, sopapilla, I was gonna speak up."

Angel blushed and ducked his head to hide a grin while Connor tried to explain himself. "It's good to have you back, Wes."

Wesley leaned into Angel's touch as the former vampire's arm slid around his waist, and he smiled broadly. "It's wonderful to be home."

 

Translation:

Angel _dice que usted tiene una boca asquerosa._ \- Angel says you have a revolting mouth.  
 _Una palabra al sabio - cada uno aquí habla español._ \- A word to a wise person - each one here speaks Spanish.


End file.
